Under the Influence
by perfectlyrose
Summary: "Accidentally called your number while drunk asking for a ride and you actually came." featuring Rose as the drunken mis-dialer and Nine as the one who actually picks up the drunk stranger. (Nine/Rose AU)
1. Chapter 1

Written from a prompt over on tumblr. Lots of drunkenness be contained here so...if that's not your thing, be warned. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>John Smith was expecting to have a quiet, uneventful evening. After the hellish week he'd had he felt he damn well deserved a night that didn't involve incompetent so-called professionals making messes that he had to clean up. No, tonight was just going to be him and some takeaway and a book he'd been planning to read for a few months now.<p>

It was close to 1:30 in the morning and John was starting to look for a good place to stop reading so he could get some sleep when his phone started vibrating on the coffee table where he'd thrown it earlier.

No one who had his number would be calling at this time of night.

He put his book down, giving his mobile a strange look as he sat up and grabbed it. John did not recognize the number on the screen but cautiously accepted the call anyways.

"Hello?" he answered gruffly.

"Jack, I'm way too drunk for you to be doing voices. I need you to come get me if you're not _busy_." The voice that came down the line was young and female and definitely slurred.

"I think you have the wrong number," John said kindly. "I'm not Jack."

"Oh. I'm sorry, was just tryin' to call my friend. Everyone just left me here and I don't even know where _here_is. Pretty sure I'm still in London. It was supposed to be a night out to make me feel better but now, god, I'm just too drunk to even work a phone properly and my mobile's about to die and I have no idea how to get home from wherever the hell I am." The girl was rambling like only the really drunk can do and it sounded like she was close to tears on top of that.

So much for a quiet night in.

"If you can figure out where you are, I can give you a lift," John offered.

"Really? You don't even know me and you'd do that?"

"Well I'm not gonna leave you to wander around London at this time of night with a dead mobile," he retorted. He wondered what kind of friends she'd been out with that had left her in that situation.

"Okay," she said. "Let me see if I can find some street signs so I can tell you where I am."

A few moments later she rattled off the intersection she was at. John recognized that crossroads as being about ten minutes from his flat.

"Okay, find somewhere out of the way to wait and I'll be there in ten. I'll be in a blue car and my name's John. Don't go with anyone else."

"I'm not an idiot, you know. I might be drunk and blonde, but I'm not an idiot."

"Never said you were. What's your name, by the way? Just so I don't try to pick up the wrong drunk blonde at that corner."

She let out a weak chuckle, "Rose. My name's Rose."

"Alright, Rose, I'll be there in ten. I'm walking out the door of my flat now." John grabbed his leather jacket from the hook by the door, shoved his feet in his boots and started walking to his car.

"Rose, are you still there?"

"Yeah, still here. Not going anywhere until there's a blue car with someone named John who has a northern accent shows up," she answered petulantly.

John felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. She was a feisty one, this Rose. "Good, I want you to stay on the line until your mobile dies."

"It's not going to last another ten minutes. 'M surprised it's lasted this long. Didn't think I was going to be able to get a call out to Ja-"

John cursed as the line went dead just as he got into his car.

He ignored multiple traffic regulations as he tried to get to the corner where Rose was as fast as he could. He knew all too well the dangers that lurked in London's shadows.

When he finally reached his destination, he screeched to a stop and started looking around, searching for the unknown blonde.

_There_.

Huddled in a doorway, using it as support there was a blonde in a dress that was entirely too short for this cold March and heels that looked impossible to stand in, much less walk.

John put his car in park and hopped out, making his way over to her.

He stopped about six feet from her, taking in her suspicious gaze. "Rose? It's me, John."

She nodded and tried to take a step forward but she stumbled. John barely caught her before she hit the pavement.

"'M sorry," she mumbled. "Not usually like this."

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. John was first struck by their color, eyes the same color as the whiskey he had in the cabinet at home, and then by the fact that there were dried tear tracks on her face. His hands flexed spasmodically on her upper arms where he'd caught her.

"C'mon, let's get you home. Things will look better in the morning."

She let him steer her towards his car and bundle her inside before slipping in himself.

"Where to, Rose?" He asked, turning the key to start the car.

"Umm, shit, I just moved. The address is ummm," she looked over at him panicked. "I can't remember my address."

"You can crash at my place, there's plenty of room," he said after a moments pause. Better his place where he knew she was safe than her potentially remembering the wrong address somewhere.

"Thank you," she murmured as he started driving. "Most people would've just hung up on me."

"I'm not most people," he answered with a quick smile at her.

The remainder of the drive passed in silence. When they made it back to his building, he helped her out of the car and let her lean on him all the way up to his flat.

As soon as they were inside, John let go of her to lock the door behind them and shrugged off his jacket to hang it up. When he turned back around, he was blindsided by the blonde he'd brought home.

She had been waiting for him to turn and as soon as he did, her arms were around his neck and she was pressing her lips to his.

He froze and then immediately started extricating himself as gently as possible. John put his hands on her shoulders as he took a step back from her. "Rose, this isn't why I brought you back here. I'm not expecting anything. Just want to make sure you're safe tonight."

It wasn't that he didn't find her attractive. On the contrary, she was molten hot in her little black dress with those big brown eyes and tempting mouth. But she was drunk and there was no way in hell he was going to consider any decision she made at this point an informed one.

To his surprise tears started to fill her eyes. She looked away, not able to meet his gaze any more. "I know but you're so nice and bloody gorgeous-" she sent him a glare through her tears when he snorted at that. "You are. And I just want to stop _feeling _for a little bit. This whole year has been shit and I'm so tired of it and obviously the alcohol route didn't work…"

John stared at her as she trailed off, sniffing as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Sex with a stranger isn't going to help. Believe me, I've been down that road and I promise it doesn't help."

"What does help?"

"Time, work, friends. It works differently for everyone, I think."

"Then how do you know sex isn't going to help me?" She asked, stubborn to the core.

"Rose, you're extremely drunk. I'm not going to take advantage of you. How old are you anyways?"

She bristled at the question. "I'll be 21 next month.'

He sighed. "I'm almost twice your age. That's enough reason, right there."

"Is not," she countered, starting to sway on her feet.

John noticed. "Come on, let's get you to bed before you fall over."

She leered at him.

"Not like that, I will not be joining you," he said, tone brooking no argument.

With only a few token protests on her part, he convinced her to change into a t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts without his help, poured a glass of water accompanied by a couple paracetamol down her throat and tucked her into his bed.

She was practically asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. John brushed her hair back from her face, took a deep breath and walked out of the room to make up the couch as his bed for the night.

His thoughts drifted back to the blonde asleep in his bed. There was no telling what Rose would remember and how she would react to whatever she did.

The morning was going to be extremely interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

Woo, the morning after! So I reached another stopping point and I know these are short chapters but that's just how it's working out. There's definitely going to be at least one more part. Maybe (probably) two more depending on how things go. Also this took a different direction that I originally planned so I hope y'all still like it!

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><p>John jolted awake when he heard someone's feet hit the floor in another room. It took a second for him to remember exactly why he was sleeping on the couch and who was in his bedroom.<p>

With a muted groan he rolled off the couch and tried to work out the kinks that a night away from his mattress had caused. Still rolling his shoulders, he padded into the kitchen to put the kettle on. He had a feeling both he and Rose would be needing the caffeine and comfort of tea this morning.

He turned, mug in hand, when he heard his guest walking towards him.

She looked at him and groaned, putting a hand to her head. "I was really kinda hoping that I'd just dreamt all of last night. Or at least most of it. Is it possible to die of embarrassment?"

Rose plopped down in one of his kitchen chairs and promptly hid her face in her hands.

"I take it you remember everything then? Wasn't sure you would considering how drunk you were."

"Unfortunately I usually remember every embarrassing thing I do even when completely sloshed."

She still hadn't actually looked him in the eye yet since she'd walked out, still dressed in the ridiculously oversized t-shirt he'd given her the night before. The shorts were a better fit since they had a drawstring but she was still drowning in his clothes.

"Kettle's hot if you want tea," he said when the silence lasted a couple seconds too long.

"God yes. I've got a killer headache and tea would help enormously."

She finally lifted her head and he got a good look at his guest. Rose's face was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked miserable and like she was trying to hide it. Based on everything he'd observed last night, he would bet his leather jacket that it was not just because of the hangover.

He went through the motions of making tea, making it the way she liked it once he'd determined what that was and setting it down in front of her.

She shot him a grateful look, took a sip of her tea. As she cradled the mug in her hands and tucked her legs beneath her on the chair, the corners of her mouth quirked up. "You know, I don't regret trying to kiss you last night. Probably would have done it sober."

John choked on his tea, tips of his ears turning pink. He needed to change the subject and fast. Sober, hungover Rose was just as attractive as the drunk, dolled up version from last night. She was still much too young for him though, no matter what she seemed to think.

"Since you're obviously capable of talking about things that happened last night, I have some questions."

He almost wished he had kept his mouth shut as he watched the amusement slide off Rose's face. Her lips pressed into a thin line, something akin to fear flashing in her eyes. He glanced down to see her grip tightened around her mug, knuckles going white.

"Alright, ask away," she finally replied, shaky bravado reasserting itself.

John took a sip of his tea, swallowed slowly. "How did you end up alone in the middle of London at 2 am with a dying mobile?"

"Told ya, didn't I? I went out with some friends and they left without me," she said stiffly, not meeting his eyes.

John had always been good at questioning people, getting the answers he needed. Rose was either lying or holding back information. He was leaning towards the latter option but his line of work had taught him never to rule anything out prematurely.

"What kind of friends leave someone behind at a club?" He pushed, voice as calm as if they were discussing the weather.

That pushed Rose over the edge. "What do you want to know? That this was the first time in about a year that I'd even seen these friends? That my so-called friends forgot I existed about fifteen minutes after we got to the club and didn't bother looking for me again? That I was attempting to drink any recollection of the last year even though I knew it wouldn't work because I can't ever bloody forget anythin'?" Rose's eyes were doing their best to burn a hole in John, anger masking the fear from earlier.

"Do you want to know that I tried to call someone I've only known a couple of weeks to pick me up when I started panicking because he's literally the only person who might possibly give a shit if I got home okay? What could you possibly do with all the information about my bloody awful night and life?" Rose was shaking and near tears when she came to the end of her rant. John had the distinct impression that if she wasn't extremely hungover she would have been pacing his kitchen at this point.

"Rose," he started after a few beats of silence. John reached out and laid his hand over hers which was curled into a fist on the tabletop. "I'm not planning on doing anything with the information. You just seemed to be in trouble last night. Depending on a stranger to get you out of a dangerous situation isn't ideal and I wanted to see if I could do anything to help."

Rose pulled her hand away from his. "You have some savior complex, don't you? Coming to pick up a drunk girl you don't know in the middle of the night, trying to meddle in my life…well I don't need you. I don't need anyone. I can handle myself, John. I don't need some bloke in shining armor or leather or whatever charging in an' trying to save me."

John blinked at her, trying to figure out what to say in his own defense.

The blonde took the opportunity to continue. "An' who do you think you are anyways? Really, who picks up drunk strangers and then doesn't expect anything in return?"

John let out a sigh and dragged a hand over his face. "Helping people is what I do, alright? I know what's lurking in the shadows of this city. I wasn't going to leave you stranded and in a dangerous situation just because I had no clue who you were."

"Yeah well I know what's lurking in the shadows too. I've seen them, I've been there. Most people don't care if someone gets swallowed up by the shadows." Rose had quieted. She sounded more contemplative than argumentative now.

John was having the hardest time getting a consistent read on her. "Told you last night, I'm not most people."

"No, you're not." She gazed at him for a moment, staring hard like she was trying to memorize him, trying to stare into his soul somehow. Abruptly all the fight seemed to drain out of her, the tension in her shoulders and face seeped away as let out a sigh and broke eye contact.

Rose drained the last of her tea. "I should probably go," she said quietly.

"I can drive you back to yours," John offered, strangely unwilling to just let her walk out his door.

"I think you've done enough," she replied with a small smile. "Went above and beyond really and I don't want to impose any longer." Rose gestured back towards his bedroom. "Let me just go get my clothes and I'll be out of your hair."

He watched her walk away, heard the door close. John leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.

She was right—he had no business prying into her life like he was. But there was just something about her that made him want to help, made him want to know what the secrets were that she was hiding and why she was hiding them. It went far beyond his natural instinct to help, was more than just a physical attraction would warrant.

He honestly didn't know what to do. Every instinct was screaming at him that she needed assistance but she was adamant that she could take care of herself, had made herself abundantly clear on that point. There was no way she would let him help with whatever her trouble was if she wouldn't even let him drive her home.

John let out a long exhale. This is what happened when he attempted to take a night off. He got an even bigger puzzle and possible problem dropped right in his lap.

He was taking his last sip of tea when Rose walked back into his line of sight in the dress she had been wearing last night, ridiculous heels dangling from her fingers.

He almost choked on that sip of tea.

"You're not walking anywhere dressed like that," he finally managed to get out, fighting the urge to let his eyes wander down to the vicinity of her legs.

Rose rolled her eyes. "You're not my father. Even if you were, you wouldn't get a say."

"Not what I meant. It's still freezing outside and you'll probably get hypothermia before you get back to your flat," he paused to see if she had a counter for that one. He wasn't going to accept one, seeing as she didn't have a coat but it would be fun to see her try.

She stayed silent, pressing her lips together in a clear sign that she did not want to admit that he was right.

"Please let me drive you back to your place."

"You're not gonna take no for an answer and I'm not really interested in freezing to death so alright."

John quickly grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it before putting on his boots. "Let's go, then."

They didn't talk on the way to Rose's building except for Rose giving him the address and confirming that he knew where it was. She just sat there, staring out the window, and he let her.

When he pulled up the building she finally looked over at him, the shields in her brown eyes coming down just the tiniest bit, giving him a glimpse at the turmoil of emotions in them. "Thanks, John. For everything. Last night could have been a disaster but you saved me and just… thanks. You're a good man."

With that, she opened the door and stepped out, not giving him a chance to respond. He watched as she scurried into the building, throwing him one last glance over her shoulder as she pushed the door open.

A good man. It had been a long time since anyone had called him that. John shook his head as he pulled away from the curb and back into traffic. He had a distinct feeling that this would not be the last time he saw Rose.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay so I keep saying one more chapter but I THINK THERE'S ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER AFTER THIS ONE. (maybe two *shrugs*) Also this chapter is almost as long as the first two combined, so consider it a bonus for my lack of updates! :)

This chapter has Jack and backstory and _plot_ (weird right?). **it also carries a warning for domestic abuse as there is a discussion about it in relation to one of the characters having been abused.**

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><p>Since he was already halfway there after dropping Rose off, John decided to swing by his office. He technically did not have to work today but he would probably drive himself barmy by noon if he didn't have something to do other than worry at the mystery Rose presented. Curiosity was his constant companion and, normally, it served him well. This time, it was just being a bitch. For God's sake, he didn't even know the woman's last name! It was really none of his business why a young, presumably social, woman who was obviously a native Londoner felt like there was no one in the city she could call in a crisis. The haunted, hunted look in her eyes and the ill-concealed panic when he wanted to ask her a few questions was not any of his concern either.<p>

He just really wanted it to be his concern, his business.

John swung into a parking spot outside a completely nondescript office building and indulged in slamming the car door before taking a deep breath to calm down. He had work to do and it didn't involve Rose and he couldn't afford to be distracted.

He was almost to the building when his mobile started vibrating in his pocket. John stopped to dig it out of the pocket of his jeans, muttering curses as he did.

The curses only got louder when he saw "Captain" emblazoned on the screen.

"What do you want?" John snapped as he took the call.

"Whoa, what's got you all hot and bothered, Doc?" He could practically hear the smirk the Captain was giving him over the phone.

"None of your business. None of my business actually." John admitted, rubbing his temples as he stepped into the building's lift. "And I thought I told you to stop calling me 'Doc.'"

"You did," the Captain said cheerfully. "I respectfully chose to ignore that suggestion."

"Wasn't a suggestion." John jammed the key into his office door and stomped in. He really needed to calm down but the Captain hadn't explained why he was calling yet and Rose was still on his mind and he just needed time by himself so he could distract himself with work.

"Sure it was," the velvety smooth voice replied. "Just a very commanding one. What can I say, I'm waiting to see if you punish me."

John was pretty sure it was too early in the day to start drinking but at this point he was considering it. "Why the hell did you call me?"

"Are you going to be in your office at any point today?" The Captain snapped straight to business, all flirtation gone from his voice.

"Just walked in while we've been talking."

"Great, I have a case that's being transferred over to you. I'm dropping it by personally."

"I have enough cases, Captain. Plus I've been cleaning up the mess that Adam kid made this week. And dealing with everyone else's shit. I don't need you fobbing off a case on me too."

"You can trade me if you want but I've been ordered to give up the case and I need it to be in good hands. I'll tell you the rest of it when I get to your office. It'll be about thirty minutes. See ya!"

John stared down at the phone in his hand. More mystery. Fan-bloody-tastic.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

John spent the thirty minutes he had before the Captain showed up halfheartedly finishing up a case report from a week prior. He was worried about whatever the other man was bringing him.

He had told Rose that his job was helping people and as far as he was concerned, it was the truth. Not everyone saw it that way though. He was, for the lack of a better word, a fixer. When law enforcement or the government had a problem that they couldn't handle, they passed it along to the company to take care of it. John, and others like him, did their own investigation and then took care of whatever the problem was in whatever manner was necessary.

Their paycheques came from some hidden section of government budget. It only came to them after being run through half a dozen shell companies first but the government was paying them for their work. They weren't technically a government agency, though. The company operated in deeper shadows than the intelligence agencies and outside of the bounds of law enforcement but they took orders from both of those governing forces. If any one of the agents or the company in general was brought to light it was understood that they would be disavowed in under a second—after all, the whole point of using John and the others was because going through legal, ethical channels was no longer an option.

His job meant John had blood on his hands, that he'd made decisions and judgments that he later regretted. It meant that despite his conviction that what he did was ultimately helping people, he'd stopped considering himself a good man a long time ago.

The Captain was one of the few people in the company, hell, in the whole business that John trusted. He was competent and efficient and while their styles often didn't match up, John could always count on him to get the job done and get it done right. Too many of their colleagues lacked any sort of moral compass. It was about the mystery and the intrigue and blood for most of them, not about helping people. It's why John, known to everyone within the company as the Doctor, was always cleaning up their messes, finishing their cases so that innocent people wouldn't be hurt.

Something must have gone very wrong, or was about to go very wrong, if the Captain was enlisting the Doctor's help.

John was going through possible scenarios that could have led to the Captain calling him when there was a knock at the door.

Without waiting for an acknowledgement from inside the office, the Captain walked in, broad smile on his face. "Hello Doc, fancy seeing you here."

John just rolled his eyes and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk as he stood to take one of them as well. The Captain was a character, all charm and flirtation, but John liked to consider him an unlikely friend despite not knowing his real name or ever seeing him outside of work related gigs.

"What do have for me? Have to say I'm surprised that you're letting someone kick you off a case."

"It's not so much as 'let' as much as someone was going to pry it from my cold, dead hands if I didn't give it up," he answered, completely serious. "I don't know who wants me to back off but I was going to bring you in on this soon anyways and if I have to give it up, I need to know that it's in good hands."

"Do you know why they're trying to get you off this case?"

"Well the official reason I've heard is that I'm too 'personally involved' but that's pretty much bullshit. They don't care if we get involved as long as we get the job done. I think someone is trying to bury the case and they know I won't just let it slip through the cracks like others will."

"Well, you always did have a problem with doing what you're told," John said, smirking a bit as he tried to lighten the Captain's mood.

"You're one to talk!"

John gave a little shrug, admitting nothing. "Okay, what the hell have you gotten yourself into? Walk me through it."

The Captain pulled a thick folder out of his bag and slid it over to John.

"Seemed like a small-time case when I first picked it up. Mid-level drug dealer who suddenly had way more product and way more muscle than he should have. Cops wanted him gone but couldn't get anything solid on him or where his new power was coming from," the Captain started.

"Seems straightforward enough," John commented, flipping the folder open to see the information just given to him verbally. Jimmy Stone, drug dealer and general thug who had risen to head thug in an East London neighborhood with no explanation. "What complicated it?"

"He had a girlfriend."

John groaned, "Don't tell me the problems started because you slept with the target's girlfriend."

"Jeez Doctor, I don't sleep with everyone and I'm not that unprofessional that I would compromise a case just to get my rocks off. I can do that safely whenever I want." The Captain snapped.

"Sorry. I know that. Guess I've been listening to too much gossip. Had to work with Julie or whatever her name is this week for a few days last week and she's still…" John paused, "upset with you."

The Captain winced. "Yeah, that one can hold a grudge."

"Okay, so you didn't sleep with the girlfriend, so why is she the complication?"

"I figured she was my ticket in. Thought she would have some basic info on what her boyfriend was up to and would be willing to part with it with a bit of persuasion."

"So you were going to sleep with the girlfriend," John said flatly.

"Only if she didn't want money," the Captain protested. "I was going to try money and just verbal persuasion first!"

John made a go ahead gesture with his hand for the Captain to continue his briefing.

"Well, I let myself into the shithole they were using as a flat to do some recon and the girl was there curled up in a corner like she was hoping if she made herself small enough, she wouldn't be noticed." The Captain looked up, his eyes sparking with suppressed anger. "He'd apparently just gotten through beating the shit out of her before he left for the night. It was bad, Doc. Didn't stop the little firecracker from trying to yell at me once she realized I was a stranger and not the prick that had hit her."

The Captain chuckled humorlessly. "Kept telling me that she didn't need anyone to save her even though she could barely get to her feet because the bastard had fractured a couple ribs. Her medical file is somewhere in the folder. Apparently she'd been in A&E a couple of times over the last year but refused to press charges. Nothing as serious as the fractured ribs, according to the file. Went in for stiches for a gash on her arm and the nurse was suspicious of a few bruises. The second time she had a broken nose and a few lacerations and a shitload of bruises but the nurse said she claimed she'd gotten into a fight and the other guy looked pretty rough too. Had bruised knuckles to prove she got in a few punches of her own and they had to let it go."

"I take it you got her away from there?"

"Yeah. And she continued to tell me that she didn't need help the entire way to the hospital and while I found her a flat and got her set up with her own life away from Jimmy Stone. And she did need the help. Her mum had died right before she moved in with Jimmy and she'd lost the council flat they'd shared. No other family and Stone had cut her off from her friends once she was living with him.

"I did get some information from her though, which is why I was planning on bringing you in on this case. Apparently Jimmy's rise to power coincided with his recent acquaintance with someone named Harry Saxon."

John sucked in a sharp breath. "The Master. He hasn't surfaced for a while."

"Yeah, I know. And I know you're the expert on him, have been compiling a case on him in case he shows up again and someone finally has the balls to put a target on his back. That's one of the reasons why I wanted to give this case to you. I knew you'd be able to figure out what the Master wants with a loser like Stone if you had the info."

"Got other reasons too?" The Doctor teased halfheartedly as he started flipping through the information the Captain had compiled in the folder.

"Needed to make sure someone I trust was going to be looking after Rose since I don't want to risk her if someone decides to follow me to make sure I've dropped the case."

John froze as his friend uttered the name that had been circling his brain since last night right as he came to the file the Captain had put together on the girl he was protecting.

"Rose," he choked out, staring at the picture of the blonde who'd been in his flat the night before that was attached to the file.

"You know her?" the Captain asked, posture stiffening as he went on alert.

"Didn't before last night," he muttered.

"Holy shit, did _you_ sleep with the girlfriend, Doctor?"

"No! She accidentally called me last night when she was really drunk, wrong number when she was trying to get a hold of…" he trailed off, blue eyes sharpening as he looked at the Captain. "Jack. You're Jack."

"This is way too weird," the Captain – _Jack_ – said. "But yeah, Captain Jack Harkness at your service."

"John Smith," the Doctor answered. "And yes, that's my real name."

Jack shut his mouth, having opened it to make a crack about his name.

"Also, I understand what you mean about her being extremely stubborn and refusing help. She made sure to let me know that too. I _knew_ there was something else going on with her than just trying to drink her problems away but she wouldn't tell me so I could help…" he trailed off.

"Yeah, she likes to think she can do everything herself. I've only known her for something like five weeks but I can tell you that she's stubborn as hell and possibly the most resilient person I've ever seen. I mean, she still has issues, can't get over everything right away, but I… I think she's in a better place than I expected her to be at this point." Jack paused for a moment. "And I'm gonna tell you this now, Doc. She's gotten to be important to me over these few weeks."

"Warning me off, Harkness?"

"Nope, just going to tell you to keep her safe."

"That I can do," John said with a chuckle. "But only if she'll let me near her to attempt any sort of protection, though."

"Any reason your encounter last night would put her off?" Jack was shamelessly fishing for details at this point.

"Nah. Don't think she'll be expecting to see me again though. I dropped her off at her building this morning and technically have her number from when she called me but I didn't even know her last name before I saw it in this file."

"She spent the night at your flat?" If Jack's eyebrows went any further up his forehead, they were going to end up merging with his hair.

"Rose was _very_ drunk and couldn't remember the address of her new building so I took her back to mine." John pinned his amused colleague with a look. "We slept in completely different rooms."

"Okay, okay, fine. I believe you!" Jack said, putting his hands up in a sign of surrender.

They were discussing the best way for Jack to stay involved in the case without anyone catching on when the Captain's phone started ringing.

"It's Rose," he said, puzzled. "She doesn't ever call unless there's something wrong."

"Answer your damn phone then, Harkness!" John snapped.

"Hey Rosie, what's up?" Jack said, trying to sound less worried than he was.

"Hi Jack. I don't want to sound paranoid but I've seen the same car drive past the building seven times in the last fifteen minutes." Rose's voice was a bit shaky.

"Okay, I'll be there in under ten. I'm bringing a colleague of mine, someone I trust, to help out."

"Just hurry, I have a bad feeling about this." She hung up immediately.

Jack relayed what she had told him to John and watched the blood drain out of his face before he grabbed his jacket and bolted towards the exit.

"Doctor! What the hell has you spooked?"

"I should have suspected," the older man snarled. "The Master does this sometimes when he thinks someone knows more than they should or if he's still trying to impress a new partner by cleaning up a problem they have."

"John, you're not making any sense."

"The Master isn't done with Jimmy Stone yet and he either thinks Rose knows something about his grander plan or is doing Jimmy a favor by getting her out of the picture as revenge for leaving. Either way, he's sent someone to kill Rose and we have to get there before they finish casing the place for entry or vantage points so stop talking and get in the damn car."

They'd made it to John's car and Jack barely managed to close the passenger door before John took off, once more racing across the city, hoping to get to Rose before the worst could happen.


End file.
